


Korrasami Week 2016

by spudking



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/F, I Don't Know Anymore, I am so bad at being on time, Just enjoy, Korrasami Week, Or don't
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-16 21:22:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8118016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spudking/pseuds/spudking
Summary: My very delayed contribution to Korrasami week 2016





	1. Domestic Life

**Author's Note:**

> If you're wondering about updates for my other work I'm using this to get back into writing. There will be a long, grovelling and detailed apology on the next chapter updates for those fics when I get to them, which should be soon.

Asami Sato hadn’t really considered the mansion home from the moment she’d electrocuted her father. His betrayal had tainted every inch of the place. It had been easy, and necessary, to leave it all behind to head south. It had been even easier, and rather less necessary, to leave it for an airship and an undefined trip across the earth kingdom. And for those three long years, after it had been filled up with long lost relatives of Mako and Bolin, it had been all too easy to move into the Future Industries Tower penthouse and not come back home for days on end. Now though, Asami had a reason to come home.

She pulled into her spot in the garage, the door closing automatically behind her. Naga’s saddle was out on its rack, smelling strongly of the balsam Korra used to keep the leatherwork in good condition. Asami crossed the garage, entering the main house.

She could smell the cooking from the moment she walked through the door. Asami followed her nose to the kitchen, opening the door quietly. She saw Naga at first, curled up in a softly snoring heap on the kitchen floor. Korra had her back to her, working at kitchen counter. Something was bubbling away on the stove, a pan of oil gently heating up, and Korra was chopping away at the onions without a care in the world. She paused to stir the pot with a casual flick of her wrist, before dumping the onions into the pan to soften, head bobbing along to the beat of some unheard song. Her hair was pulled back into a short wolf tail and unless Asami was very much mistaken she was wearing the apron she’d bought her last solstice. Asami crept forward. Naga opened one lazy eye, rolled over and started snoring again. She waited until Korra had put the knife down before wrapping her arms around her from behind, making Korra jump a little.   
“Well hi there,” She laughed. “Wasn’t expecting you til later.”  
“I didn’t feel like hanging around the office.” Asami tucked her chin over Korra’s shoulder, inhaling deeply. “Smells good.”  
“Me, or the dinner?”  
“Oh, both. Generally both.”   
“It’s an arctic hen casserole, had to get it started now so it would be ready for dinner.”  
“What would I do without you?”  
“oh, I don’t know, go back to living off those instant noodles you invented and end up with scurvy?”   
“One time, Korra, that was _one_ time!” Asami protested, but she didn’t really mind. It wasn’t like she’d actually got all the way to scurvy anyway.

Korra slid them down the counter a little, so that when she turned to face Asami she didn’t set her ass on fire on the hob. Asami’s suspicions were proven correct; Korra was indeed wearing the apron with “ _I’m the chef and you gotta deal with it!”_ emblazoned on it. There were smudges of flour on her apron and a splash of sauce on her cheek, which Asami wiped away.   
“You know, I could really get used to coming home to this little scene.”  
“Yeah well, don’t push it. Artic hen’s a mother clucker to prepare.”  
Asami rolled her eyes.  
“Not that, specifically. You. Us. I kinda like it.”  
“Oh, just kinda, huh?” Korra snorted, taking Asami by the waist. “Well it’s a good thing you like it, because I’m not planning on going anywhere any time soon.”

Korra had to break up the cuddle to rescue the onions.


	2. Gamer Girlfriend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asami takes her games a little too seriously.

Korra’s run had taken her longer than she thought, and it was getting dark by the time she eventually got back to their flat, legs aching, breathing hard. She tried to catch her breath in the doorway of the apartment block, and that’s when she heard the yelling. The very familiar yelling. Asami.  
“You bastard! I’m going to fucking get you!”  
 Korra didn’t even think. She fumbled for her keys, sprinting the three flights despite the screaming in her lower limbs. She hit the front door with her shoulder, expecting it to be open, and ricocheted off, landing on her ass in the hallway.  Korra lay there for a moment, a little stunned from the collision, until a shout of _“You think you can fuck with me, huh?_ ” from inside the apartment galvenised her into action. She scrambled up, unlocked the door, and stepped into the apartment. She grabbed the old hockey stick Asami insisted they keep by the door ‘just in case’. It felt reassuring in her hands; if whoever was in the flat was enough to give Asami trouble she was taking every advantage she could. Asami let loose another string of profanities from the lounge and Korra braced herself at the doorway, taking a deep breath. She gritted her teeth. And burst through.   
“Alright you bas-OW! FUCK!”

“I am so, so sorry,” Asami was still apologising five minutes later, after getting ice for Korra’s rapidly swelling nose and tissues to try mop up the bleeding. Whatever Korra’s said in response was muffled under the mess she was holding to her face. She didn’t look too upset though, from what Asami could see.

Asami knew she tended to get a little carried away when she was gaming. There had been one or two complaints from the neighbours, and while Korra had never said anything she knew that it couldn’t be the most pleasant to have to hear for hours on end, so she generally made use of the time Korra wasn’t about to really get into it. For instance, when Korra went running. Which is what she’d been attempting to do, right up to the moment her girlfriend burst through the living room door wielding a hockey stick and looking for blood. Asami had reacted on instinct. It turned out a controller, when thrown with sufficient force, could really do some damage. Maybe if Korra had been a little slower on the uptake she wouldn’t have lowered the stick and she’d have had a chance at defending her face. If Asami had been a little faster she definitely wouldn’t have pitched her custom controller at Korra’s head. As it was the controller was in pieces and Korra’s face wasn’t doing much better.   
“What was that?”  
Korra gingerly moved the makeshift dressing away from her face for a moment.  
“I said were you at least winning?”  
She looked so earnest, even with the blood all down her chin. Asami had to laugh.   
“Yeah, Korra. I was winning.”  
“Who were you even yelling at?”  
“Uh...” Asami went red. “Nobody. That you know. Um...” She looked guiltily towards the screen, still displaying the message _Killed by Sharkbrows999_. Korra saw where she was looking.   
“Sharkbrows...?” She looked at Asami, who was staring intently at the ceiling. Korra picked up the discarded headset, hooking it over her ear.   
_“Asami? Your system crash or something?”_ came Mako’s voice. “ _C’mon, I got one good shot in and you ragequit on me?”_  
Korra took the headset back off.  
“Oh he’s going to pay for this.” She muttered, even as Asami apologetically offered her more tissue for her nose.  

“You know you can’t blame him, right?”  
“Can if I want to,” Korra pouted, scrunching up her nose and then thinking better of it. It hadn’t been broken but it was still tender.  Asami rolled her eyes good naturedly and pulled Korra closer in the bed. Korra squinted suspiciously at her.  
“Are you trying to snuggle me out of wanting to kill Mako?”  
“Is it working?”  
“...maybe.”

When the new controller arrived in the post a few days later it was accompanied by a full-face hockey goalie helmet. Korra tried to pretend not to see the funny side.


	3. College

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More British uni than college but hey. This one got away from me a bit.

The seminar started at 9 on the dot, every week. It was a little annoying to have to fight through the traffic but most of the class made it on time, with one notable exception. Asami didn’t know her name, but she managed to turn up late every single time, without fail. By now she didn’t even bother trying to offer an explanation, just staggering in and dropping into a chair close to the back of the room. Asami was prepared to accept that not everyone would be as dedicated to their studies as her, but there was just something about the way she turned up, looking more or less like she’d come to class directly through a hedge, smelling like a brewery, and just so blatantly hungover that really rankled. Take that morning; she’d turned up twenty minutes late, still wearing sunglasses inside, and hadn’t even bothered to get out her notebook or laptop, just clutching a sports drink like it was a lifeline. And then, just to cap it all off, she actually had to be _good_ at international relations! Asami could have handled it if she’d been just average, but she’d accidentally gotten a glimpse of the marks of the latest batch of essays and it turned out mystery girl was, firstly, called Korra, and secondly was tied with her for top marks. It was unbelievably aggravating. Asami knew how much time she put into preparing for each seminar, each essay, and to have to share first place with someone that had gone green halfway through the last seminar and bolted for the door was a kick in the teeth.

“You seem a _little_ obsessed with this girl,” Opal opined over coffee, and Asami glared.   
“I am not!”  
“This is about the _fifth_ rant I’ve heard about her this week. You have _one_ class with her.”  
“That’s besides the point!” Asami protested, but Opal was giving her the Look again so she let the matter drop. Right up until Korra walked into the coffee shop.  “Oh, come on!” Asami moaned, slipping down in her seat so she was less visible. Opal spotted the source of her discomfort.  
“That’s her?”  
“Yup.”  
“...yeah, it’s totally her conduct in class that has you all flustered.” Opal snorted. “Oh, Asami. You never learn.”  
Asami was too busy pretending not to be watching Korra to read too much into Opal’s statement.   
“She dropped her ID,” Asami muttered, not realising she was speaking aloud. Opal pushed Asami’s chair back with her foot.  
“Go on then. Get it back to her.”  
Begrudingly Asami stood.

Korra moved surprisingly quickly for a hungover wreck, and Asami had to run to catch her up.   
“Hey! Korra!”  
She finally stopped, pulling her headphones.   
“Yeah?...oh, cheers.” She took back the card, shoving it into her pocket. “You’re um...Asami, right? International relations?”  
“I’m surprised you remember me.”  
The comment slipped out, more harsh than Asami intended. Korra rolled her eyes behind her sunglasses.   
“Right, yeah, I guess I’m not always the most attentive.”  
“Or conscious.”  
Korra frowned.   
“Do you have a problem with me, Asami?”  
It burst out. It wasn’t supposed to.  Asami had the denial all queued up, but some switch in her brain was set to self-humiliation and the words just spilled out. Korra stuck her hands in her pockets, nodding along with the tirade with an almost insufferable expression of amusement that just made Asami more angry.   
“Don’t patronise me!” She snapped. Korra held up her hands, but she was still grinning.  
“I’m sorry it’s just...yeah, ok. I sleep in seminars. Maybe I’m just a genius. Maybe I’m sleeping with the lecturer. Hell, maybe I’m secretly a princess and this sort of thing comes easy after being taught it all my life. I just think it’s amusing you get so worked up about it, when me doing well doesn’t affect you in the slightest.”  
Asami hesitated. She had a point, it had to be said. Korra gave her another crooked grin.   
“Thanks again. See you around!”  
Korra gave a little salute as she turned and headed off down to the street.

“Insufferable jackass!” Asami flung herself back into her chair.  
“Great ass, though,” Opal said mildly.  
“Well yeah, she’s gorgeous, but that’s not...” Asami stopped. Opal was grinning at her. “Oh no. Don’t you even say it.”  
“What? She’s hot, she’s smart, and she clearly doesn’t give a fuck. Face it, she’s your type.”  
Asami just pouted.

Korra wasn’t any better the next week, stealing Asami’s thunder by peeling her face off the little desk attached to the chair to give an impressively detailed answer, before slumping back down. The only difference was now, after a full week of incessant teasing, Asami was only too aware of the way her gaze kept flicking across to her. Damn Opal. Damn her to hell.

“Did you really have to tell me?” Asami complained, as the taxi pulled up outside.  
“It was that or listen to you be utterly oblivious over your crush for an entire term. Again. Now get over it, and get under her.”  
“You’re terrible.”  
“You love it. Now come on. If mum insists on throwing these swanky dos the least we can do is soak up as much of the bubbly as we can.”  
“There are going to be important people here, aren’t there?”  
“And?”

Asami was four glasses of champagne down and beginning to feel a little light headed when she heard a familiar voice. She turned.  
“You?” She exclaimed, more than a little surprised. Korra was leaning against a pillar, crooked grin in place, a crystal tumbler in one hand. Out of her hangover scruffs Asami had to admit she cleaned up well. The midnight blue military-style jacket and black trousers looked fantastic on her, though the fake decorations were possibly in poor taste.   
“Asami. Good to see you.”  
“Uh...you too. Bit of a change of scene. How’d you get an invite? Or do you just appear in the presence of alcohol?”  
Korra smiled a self depreciating smile.  
“You really do see me at my worst. It’s sports night, before IR. My one night a week I can cut loose, hence the uh...state, in the morning. As for how I’m here, well,” the cocky grin was back. “I have my ways.”  
“Oh, Asami, nice to see you” Su bustled over, a vision in emerald as ever. “Ah, I see you’ve met the guest of honour.”  
Asami blinked. She looked over to Korra’s unchanging grin and back.  
“I have?”   
“Oh, did nobody introduce you? Asami, this is, now correct me if I get this wrong, please, Her Royal Highness, The Crown Princess of the Southern Water Tribes.”  
Asami’s jaw dropped.   
“Let’s not stand on ceremony, Su. Just ‘Korra’, is fine.”

Asami hadn’t quite recovered by the time Su bustled off.  
“I...you...”  
“I did say,” Korra teased, taking a sip from her glass.  
“So that...”  
“Official uniform, yup. I did say, didn’t I? I flat-out told you I was a princess.”  
“I thought you were kidding!”  
“I was,” Korra said seriously. “There’s no way I’d sleep with the lecturer.”

“So,” Asami said, filing the awkward silence that had settled. “I mean, now I know your secret...”  
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t put it about. I’m liking having a normal life, as much as possible when I’m schmoozing, hobnobbing and generally diplomating four nights a week.”  
“...hence the hardcore drinking on Wednesdays.”  
“Sports night. Best night of the uni week. So. Still thinking I’m a pompous, undeserving jackass?”  
Asami pretended to think about it.  
“Jackass? Nah. Great ass? In those trousers? Uh, I mean...” Asami prepared to backpedal but Korra was laughing.  
“You know something, Asami?” Korra paused to take two more glasses off the tray of a passing waiter. “I think this year is about to get a lot more interesting for me.” She offered the glass. Asami took it, clinking it gently against Korra’s.  
“You might just be right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hungover Korra is in no way autobiographical and it definitely never took people four weeks to realise I was always hungover in a particular class because they'd never seen me not-hungover. I was a responsible student. Honest.


	4. Moving In

Asami had agonised over how to ask her. It wasn’t that she thought Korra would say no; for the last two months Korra had basically been living with her anyway. It’s that this mattered. This was a big step, and she wanted to do it right. She had to do it right. _Because_...Korra’s entrance from the bathroom derailed her train of thought. She was in her pyjamas, towel round her neck, short hair still a little damp from the shower, and even though she was utterly exhausted from a long day chasing triad members Asami still thought she looked utterly beautiful. _Because of that._ Because Asami wanted to see that sight every night. Because Asami couldn’t imagine a night without the mattress protesting as Korra dropped onto it overdramatically, curling up against her as if they’d been separated for days instead of a few minutes. And maybe it would have been a good moment to broach the subject, but it was easier just to turn off the light and let Korra pull her closer. Before she dozed off Asami wondered briefly what the triads would think if they knew that the same woman that had put six of them in hospital (Korra, for all that she’d reined in her temper, still had something of a short fuse when it came to people recklessly endangering civilians, particularly children), and another ten behind bars that day alone, clung like a koala when she was sleepy.

Korra did not do mornings by choice, but as ever she managed to make it out of bed, shambling down to the kitchen to sit half-asleep in the kitchen table, coffee mug in hand, as Asami got ready to face the day, and give her a kiss goodbye at the door. And again the feeling crashed over Asami. _This. This forever._

It was a week later when it all came to the surface once more. Korra had been away in the newly minted Earth Republic, helping to settle a border dispute. She’d come through from the garden, having jumped off the bison over Asami’s place, and was barely through the door when Asami blurted out;  
“Move in with me.”  
Korra blinked. And frowned. _Fuck_. Asami was panicking internally. _I moved too fact, I freaked her out, I..._  
“Asami, I moved in like, two months ago.”  
_...huh?_

Asami stared at the chest of drawers she’d given over to Korra when she’d started spending more time at the mansion.   
“This is...you haven’t even filled them,” Asami said, confused, and Korra laughed.  
“Asami, I don’t have a job. No income, so it’s not like I can buy much stuff. The White Lotus,” Korra’s voice took on the usual slightly strained tone it did when she had to discuss her childhood, “well, they weren’t exactly keen on me having much as a kid. Too distracting, apparently. Not many shops in that part of the South Pole anyway. Long story short, you can fit everything I own comfortably on Naga, twice over.”  
Asami looked at the rather Spartan chest of drawers, to her own walk-in wardrobe, and back to Korra.   
“Well now I feel like a prat for not noticing.”  
"Be that as it may," Korra grinned, taking her hand. "You're my prat. And I wouldn't want to be with anyone else, or live anywhere else, even if you do have the observational skills of a gnat on occasion."

Korra very graciously waited two whole days before she started making jokes about it with their friends. Asami was fairly certain she was never going to live it down, but provided she could hide her blush in by burying her face in Korra’s shoulder she found she didn’t really mind.


	5. Space Girlfriends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to write something and I absolutely hated it, so have a The Martian AU because my ability to think has also been left behind on a different planet. Obviously spoilers for The Martian.
> 
>  

 

549 sols. Almost 560 Earth days alone on this godforsaken rock. And now she was about to do quite possibly the stupidest thing ever attempted in the history of mankind. But hey, fastest woman in the history of space travel did have one hell of a ring to it. Korra checked the fastenings on the tarpaulin that was supposed to serve as the front of her ship for her brief ascent one last time and strapped herself into the chair. Any moment now, any moment...  
For the first time in 549 days her comms crackled to life, and the voice she’d been dreaming of came through.  
“Mars Lander, this is the Appa 7. Come in, Mars.”  
Korra swallowed hard, trying to keep down the wave of emotion. Despite her best efforts her voice shook.  
“This is Mars. I hear you, Commander. Fuck...I...” her voice broke. “Thanks for coming back for me.”  
High above the surface of the planet Asami wiped her eyes at the controls, and Opal pretended not to see.   
“Yeah, well, your mum would never let me play with Naga again if I didn’t.” She shot back, and the answering half laugh, half sob was one of the best sounds Asami had ever heard.  
“Well Asami, I know you like showing off but please, no fancy flying with this thing,” Korra choked out, and Asami laughed.  
“Ok, no loop-the-loop. You’re probably going to black out, Korra, but it’s ok. I’ve got you.”  
“My life in your hands, ‘sams. But I wouldn’t want anyone else launching me into space in a freaking convertible. If nothing else then because you’d get jealous and demand a repeat performance so you could have a go.” Korra quipped. She double checked her restraints as the crew of the Appa sounded off.   
“Korra. On your signal. Are we good?”  
Korra closed her eyes, taking a few deep, steadying breaths.  
“We are good. Go, Asami. Go.”

Asami flipped the switch. The engines roared. Korra was slammed back into her seat, the force of the acceleration crushing her. She could hear Asami’s voice in her ear but she couldn’t even raise a finger, couldn’t even draw a breath. The last thing she saw before the blackness claimed her was the sky falling away behind her, stars exploding before her eyes.

Opal reached across the consol, putting her hand reassuringly on Asami’s shoulder. The module was launched and separated, no guidance left to be done on Asami’s part, but there was no response from Korra.  
“She was pulling 12 Gs coming up, she’s probably just blacked out. Give her a few minutes, ok? How’s the intercept looking?”  
Asami nodded, fighting down the nerves inside her. She checked the readout, and the knot inside her loosened.   
“We’re perfect. Spot on fucking perfect. Intercept at 90 meters, speed 7 meters a second.” Asami let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding.    
“Is this kind of physics applicable for a Nobel? Or engineering?”  
“Fuck the Nobel.” Asami’s fingers ghosted over the screen tracking the module’s ascent. “I just want Korra back.”

When Korra came to all she could see stars all around her. She unbuckled herself, pulling the tarp into the module, and seeing for the first time in what felt like a lifetime the outline of the Appa 7, drifting towards her. She blinked hard, trying to stop her eyes welling up because there was no way she would be able to wipe them away inside the suit if she started crying now.   
“Well hi there, guys. I left my bus pass back on the planet, that’s not going to be a problem, right?”  
There was what sounded suspiciously like a sigh of relief.  
“Smooth enough flight for you?” came Asami’s voice, and Korra gave a watery laugh in response. “We’re ten minutes from intercept, ok? So you just sit tight because I swear, if you manage to fling yourself into space at this point I’m putting a suit on and chasing your ass down, you got it?”  
“I got it, Asami.”

Six hundred  and twenty four of the longest seconds of Korra’s life later and she saw the figure floating out towards her, trailing a line. It took everything she had not to throw herself towards it, knowing that it would be easier for him to grab onto the module instead of her. Mako landed gently beside her, beaming, wrapping an arm around her.   
“Well hey there stranger. Need a lift?”  
He clipped the line to the ring on her suit, giving it a tug to test it.  
“You want to do the honours?” He asked, and Korra nodded, clunking her visor against his.   
“Bolin. This is Korra. I’m all hooked up. Reel us in.”

 It’s hard to hug in a spacesuit, but they just about managed it in the airlock. Asami was waiting for them when the inner doors opened, slightly out of breath, as if she’d sprinted the length of the ship to be there for that moment, Opal trailing along in her wake. She was barely holding back tears as she helped Korra out off her gear. Her hand grazed Korra’s cheek as she removed her helmet and Korra’s shaking hand came up to hold it in place. Asami stopped. Korra’s eyes were closed, silent tears running down her cheek as she savoured the first moment of real, human, skin-on-skin contact since she had been left on Mars. Ever so carefully, as if Korra might shatter under the touch, Asami brought up her other hand to cradle Korra’s gaunt face, and press the lightest of kisses to Korra’s forehead. Korra sagged, crashing against her, and Asami barely caught her. She was light, too light from her virtual starvation diet but Asami couldn’t have cared less as she wrapped her arms around her.  
“It’s so good to see you,” Asami murmured into Korra’s ear, feeling her nod against her, feeling her gripping fistfuls of Asami’s shirt as if she was afraid she would drift away again. “And I’m loving the hair.”  
And Korra finally stopped trying to keep any kind of handle on her emotions and let herself break down right there and then, cradled against Asami’s chest. Thirty four million miles away the planet Earth was exploding into celebration as the news of Korra’s rescue was relayed around the world, but right now all Korra could think about was staying just as she was for the rest of eternity.

It took time to readjust to being around people. To not having to count and recount every morsel of food for fear of starvation. Sometimes even Asami’s presence was too much, an overload of Korra’s brittle senses, but the crew understood. Or at least they were understanding; as Opal pointed out not one of them would ever really be able to understand unless they’d endured it themselves.  At which point Korra, who they had thought was dozing, had sat up and told them not to even joke about that. Things had got a little tense after that, and Korra had vanished to lurk by the airlock, having been banned from the gym until she’d regained a little more weight. But that night Korra had crawled into bed alongside Asami and, instead of just linking fingers with her which had been pretty much all the contact Korra could manage, wrapped her arms tightly around her.

 It was a year to the day they landed back on Earth when Korra got down on one knee and presented Asami with a rather curiously made ring of steel and braided gold wire. Korra had made it herself, from salvaged components of the HAB that had been her home on Mars, kept it safe with her on her return to the Appa. She’d worked on day in, day out. To eat up the time. To remind her why she had to get up each day and keep pushing, and pushing, no matter how bleak things got. Asami saw it for what it was in a  heartbeat and she didn’t hesitate to say yes. After all, she’d already gone to the end of the Earth and quite some way beyond that for Korra.


End file.
